"Canaille!"--the scream was more of terror than anger,as she almost flung herself under the horses'heads in her eagerness to escape from the mob."Let me go!My carriage is waiting.I am Lady Caroline Brithwood!"The 'squire heard her.For a single instant they gazed at one another--besotted husband,dishonoured,divorced wife--gazed with horror and fear,as two sinners who had been each other's undoing,might meet in the poetic torments of Dante's "Inferno,"or the tangible fire and brimstone of many a blind but honest Christian's hell.One single instant,--and then Richard Brithwood made up his mind.
"Coachman,drive on!"
But the man--he was an old man--seemed to hesitate at urging his horses right over "my lady."He even looked down on her with a sort of compassion--I remembered having heard say that she was always kind and affable to her servants.
"Drive on,you fool!Here"--and Mr.Brithwood threw some coin amongst the mob--"Fetch the constable--some of you;take the woman to the watch-house!"And the carriage rolled on,leaving her there,crouched on the kerbstone,gazing after it with something between a laugh and a moan.
Nobody touched her.Perhaps some had heard of her;a few might even have seen her--driving through Norton Bury in her pristine state,as the young 'squire's handsome wife--the charming Lady Caroline.
I was so absorbed in the sickening sight,that I did not perceive how John and Ursula,standing behind me,had seen it likewise--evidently seen and understood it all.
"What is to be done?"she whispered to him.
"What ought we to do?"
Here Maud came running out to see what was amiss in the street.
"Go in,child,"said Mrs.Halifax,sharply."Stay till I fetch you."Lady Oldtower also advanced to the door;but catching some notion of what the disturbance was,shocked and scandalised,retired into the shop again.
John looked earnestly at his wife,but for once she did not or would not understand his meaning;she drew back uneasily.
"What must be done?--I mean,what do you want me to do?""What only a woman can do--a woman like you,and in your position.""Yes,if it were only myself.But think of the household--think of Maud.People will talk so.It is hard to know how to act.""Nay;how did One act--how would He act now,if He stood in the street this day?If we take care of aught of His,will He not take care of us and of our children?"Mrs.Halifax paused,thought a moment,hesitated--yielded.
"John,you are right;you are always right.I will do anything you please."And then I saw,through the astonished crowd,in face of scores of window-gazers,all of whom knew them,and a great number of whom they also knew,Mr.Halifax and his wife walk up to where the miserable woman lay.
John touched her lightly on the shoulder--she screamed and cowered down.
"Are you the constable?He said he would send the constable.""Hush--do not be afraid.Cousin--Cousin Caroline."God knows how long it was since any woman had spoken to her in that tone.It seemed to startle back her shattered wits.She rose to her feet,smiling airily.
"Madam,you are very kind.I believe I have had the pleasure of seeing you somewhere.Your name is--""Ursula Halifax.Do you remember?"--speaking gently as she would have done to a child.
Lady Caroline bowed--a ghastly mockery of her former sprightly grace.
"Not exactly;but I dare say I shall presently--au revoir,madame!"She was going away,kissing her hand--that yellow,wrinkled,old woman's hand,--but John stopped her.
"My wife wants to speak to you,Lady Caroline.She wishes you to come home with us.""Plait il?--oh yes;I understand.I shall be happy--most happy."John offered her his arm with an air of grave deference;Mrs.Halifax supported her on the other side.Without more ado,they put her in the carriage and drove home,leaving Maud in my charge,and leaving astounded Norton Bury to think and say exactly what it pleased.
